


Madness Comes in Different Forms

by Pryftan



Series: 20 Day OTP Kiss Challenge [4]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: 20 day OTP Kiss Challenge, A bit d/s, Angst, Brief mention of the company, Dark!Thorin, Frottage, M/M, Madness, Possessive!Thorin, rough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-04 02:05:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1762507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pryftan/pseuds/Pryftan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>20 Day OTP Kiss Challenge - Day 4: Furious Kissing</p>
<p>Madness comes in different forms, and they all have the same potential for destruction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Madness Comes in Different Forms

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, this got really dark really fast. This is my first time exploring Dark!Thorin, so please let me know what you think. Thanks again for all the support! Enjoy!

Bilbo stood in the treasury staring at the gold around him that rose in mounds that made him feel tiny. He could still smell the dragon, the acrid stench of chemicals that turned Smaug’s breath into fire. It made him sick to his stomach, even more so now that they had unleashed the beast upon Laketown.

 

While he could not see them, he could hear the other dwarves as they spoke about the wealth that surrounded them.  Thorin had ordered them to search for the Arkenstone and so here they all were, not that they would find it. Bilbo had hidden it away in his pack; the words Smaug had spoken still ringing in his ears, _“Watch it destroy him.  Watch it corrupt his heart and drive him mad!”_

 

Thorin had changed since they arrived; he was singularly focused on finding the heart of the mountain. The hobbit could see the obsession behind the dwarf’s gaze and it terrified him.  He had completely forgotten about his kin that were now facing the dragon for him, and he had forgotten about Bilbo.  The dwarf that he loved had gone, drowned out by the madness of his line and it broke his heart. 

 

He dropped the large piece of adamant he had been staring at when a large hand curled loosely around the back of his neck.  He recognized Thorin’s touch immediately, but he had not heard him approach. Large fingers trailed up the column of his neck and traced the outside of one ear as the dwarf leaned in to whisper, “My hobbit, so dutiful in your search that you did not hear me. I am pleased.”

 

His tone had been intimate, but the words made his stomach tighten uncomfortably and a shiver danced across his skin unbidden.  He could only respond with a soft groan as Thorin nipped at the tip of one ear. The dwarf king rumbled appreciatively as his tongue lapped at the abused flesh, “I have a gift for you. Come with me.”

 

Thorin took his hand as he stepped away and when Bilbo faced him he tried to school his features into something less indicative of his mounting trepidation.  Thorin was smiling down at him, and it was so akin to the one he saved only for the hobbit that his heart clenched.  It wasn’t though; his eyes were still distant as if the dwarf were staring through him at the gold. 

 

Thorin scooped up a torch and he allowed the dwarf to lead him from the treasury and into the dark halls of the mountain. The small flame offered just enough light for Bilbo to see where he was putting his feet, but they still relied on the king’s enhanced vision to actually see where they were going. Bilbo wasn’t expecting the sharp tug on his hand and stumbled forwards until Thorin pressed him bodily against a wall, dropping the torch. 

 

The dwarf’s lips crashed into his own almost painfully.  One of the Thorin’s hands latched onto the curls at the back of his head, holding him in place as his tongue forced its way past the hobbit’s lips. Bilbo fisted his hands into the king’s coat, hanging on for dear life as a moan escaped him.  The hand that wasn’t pulling at his hair was furiously yanking at his belt, and Bilbo swallowed the dwarf’s triumphant sound as it finally came loose and dropped to the ground. 

 

Their previous kisses had never been this frenzied, Thorin had always taken his time to be gentle – and while that was nice, this was heady, all teeth and tongues and beard burn against his chin.  It ignited something dark and fierce inside him and made Bilbo desperate for more. Thick fingers worked clumsily at his buttons, popping them from their places so violently they almost came off.

 

Bilbo pulled his hands away just long enough to shrug out of the tattered blue coat and his vest and braces.  Thorin pulled his shirt out of his trousers and ripped the last few buttons in his haste to get at the hobbit’s skin.  His wide palms were impossibly warm against the hobbit’s chest and callused thumbs found his nipples easily.  His body arched into the touch and he threw his head back with a loud moan. 

 

Thorin laved kisses and sharp bites across his jaw and down his throat, growling as Bilbo arched again, slotting their hips together.  As he continued his assault downwards, Thorin brushed his palms down the hobbit’s soft sides until they curved around his hips.  He held Bilbo steady as the dwarf rocked into him, pressing their needs together and causing the hobbit to groan wantonly. 

 

Bilbo stifled a squeak as Thorin’s lips came in contact with one of his nipples, and he couldn’t help the noises he made as the king sucked and licked and nipped at the sensitive bud. Bilbo yanked at raven tresses, which earned him a deep snarl out of Thorin that he felt more than heard, but it got him what he wanted as the dwarf moved to lavish his attention of the other nipple. 

 

When he was satisfied with his work, the king pulled away and Bilbo whimpered at the loss of contact. The meager light from the forgotten torch gilded Thorin’s features and reflected dangerously in his dark eyes. Bilbo watched, breathless, as the dwarf reached inside his coat and pulled out something slivery as he ordered, “Hands up.”

 

He hesitated only a moment before stretching his arms above his head and twitched as body-warm metal slid over his skin.  The mail shirt was impossibly light as it settled on his shoulders, and the intricate detailing around the collar was stunning.  He traced reverent fingers around filigreed whorls of white metal and clear gems, his earlier fervor abating slightly as he looked to Thorin for answer.

 

“I told you once that I would deck you in the best armor to protect you, and this is it. Mithril is the strongest of all the metals, nothing can pierce it.” There was something dark and predatory in Thorin’s gaze that sent tingles of anticipation down his spine. Bilbo reached up and regained fistfuls of the dwarf’s hair before yanking him down for a searing kiss.

 

A voice in the back of his mind screamed that there was something wrong with this, but he couldn’t bring himself to care as strong hands grabbed at his hips and lifted him off the ground.  He instinctively wrapped his legs around Thorin's solid waist, moaning as their erections brushed against each other, and clinging to broad shoulders as the king rutted against him. The links of the shirt rubbed against his oversensitized nipples, pushing him higher and higher and he groaned as his back was slammed against the wall. 

 

Fingers fumbled at ties and buttons and the hobbit sucked in a sharp breath as Thorin freed his member and moaned shamelessly as the dwarf’s bare cock slid next to his. With a feral sound, the king fisted them together and started a swift rhythm while holding the hobbit up with one hand.

 

Bilbo was gone, lost in the throes of pleasure and came quickly with Thorin’s name on his lips. The king was not far behind, biting down hard on the juncture of his neck and shoulder as he positively roared through his completion.  Pearly fluid streaked across the mithril shirt and the dwarf cleaned his messy palm on the inside of his trousers before tucking them both away. 

 

They caught their breath with foreheads pressed together and eventually Thorin let his legs fall, keeping him steady as the hobbit regained his footing.  The king pressed a kiss to the top of his head, murmuring into his hair, “I am sorry I do not have the proper place or time to do what I’d like to you, my burglar.”

 

“Promise me.” Bilbo started, his heated voice barely above a whisper, waiting for Thorin to meet his gaze before continuing, “Make me a promise and leave it on my skin so I won’t forget it.  Mark me.”

 

The king’s initial confusion melted into that same predatory gaze from earlier, and a dangerous smile crossed his features as he fisted a hand into the hobbit’s hair. The grip bordered on pain as Thorin tilted his head to the side, baring his neck as he leaned in, “From now on, you are mine.  No one is to touch you.”

 

Goosebumps raised along his skin as the dwarf’s breath rolled across his ear, and he nodded his head at the unspoken threat beneath the possessive tone.  There was a light nip over his fluttering pulse and another growled _“mine”_ had him whimpering. Then Thorin sank his teeth into Bilbo’s skin, drawing a sharp, keening moan from the hobbit’s lips. The king sucked and laved at the mark, drawing blood up into a dark bruise against his pale skin.

 

His mind reeled in shock at the sharp pain, alarms going off inside his head that this was crossing a line.  Thorin pulled back a bit and surveyed the mark through hooded eyes, a possessive smirk curling his lips.  Something distinctly wrong pooled in his gut as Thorin growled, “I want to hear you say it. Whom do you belong to?”

 

“You, my king.” Bilbo practically purred as his stomach twisted uncomfortably.  The dwarf hummed in approval as he pressed a kiss to the mark. Back towards the treasury, someone called Thorin’s name and the dwarf sighed against his skin. His fingers loosened their grip in Bilbo’s hair, stroking through the curls as he captured the hobbit’s lips in an almost tender kiss. 

 

“Do not hide that mark and do not take off the mithril.” Thorin ordered against his lips. Bilbo nodded, watching as the king stepped back and looked him over appreciatively before stalking away and leaving him alone.  Silence reigned supreme and a chill settled in his bones as reality flooded in.

 

What had he gotten himself into?  This was madness, pure and simple.  His mind was telling him to take the Arkenstone and run as fast as he could, but his body was already craving more of the dwarf king.  One taste of Thorin’s skin and he was addicted, impatient for the next opportunity. Well, if this really was madness, then he would revel in it for a while and hope it didn’t kill him.

**Author's Note:**

> I needed some inspiration to write and I came across the 20 Day OTP Kiss Challenge (found here: http://iriarty.tumblr.com/post/43578137224/20-day-otp-kiss-challenge ) and thought it was a good way to get a bit more serious about writing. These will be short, stand-alone drabbles with no real timeline and no real story between them. Please let me know if you enjoyed, or not whatever.


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